


Fly With Me

by raynaki



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (Mentioned) Brock Rumlow, Alpha Steve, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Captain of the guard Steve, Childhood Friends, Creepy Brock Rumlow, Erskine is a good bro, Happy Ending, Highborn Bucky, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Omega Bucky Barnes, POV Bucky Barnes, Pining, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, True Love, Unwanted betrothal, unspoken feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27169217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raynaki/pseuds/raynaki
Summary: Bucky had always known that Steve was an honorable and dutiful man, how could he be anything else when he had been raised by Sarah? He had hoped that Steve might feel enough for him, that he was willing to forge a new sense of honor.Bucky has had enough of being shackled by tradition. He's ready to be true to himself, and that includes admitting it to the love of his life.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 16
Kudos: 141





	Fly With Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Madeleine_Ward](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madeleine_Ward/gifts).



> This is the first story I've ever finished! (So be gentle?) With out the loving support (and heroic beta skills) of the amazing Madeleine_Ward (seriously go read her stuff) it would still be sobbing abandoned in my wip folder. 
> 
> It was inspired by the song "Blades in Autumn" by The Clockwork Dolls and takes place in a vaguely steampunkish universe that (should the inspiration hit) I might play in again. 
> 
> Please let me know if it's missing any tags. And heads up there is the tiniest mention of Brock being the creepy pushy jerk we all know (and despise >:3)
> 
> Also please don't post anywhere else! :3

Despite how late it was, Bucky knew he would find Steve by the lake. It was his favorite spot and had been since they were kids, long before they presented. If Steve wasn't to be found anywhere else, Bucky always knew to look for the blonde haired Captain there. 

He made his way across the grounds, careful not to make a sound; were he to be found out of his quarters without a chaperone, there would be hell to pay. It was inappropriate for an unmated omega to be alone. He had been caught many times before, and each time had been punished. 

_ Never again  _ he thought with satisfaction. He couldn’t help but grin as he reached the lake side. 

Then he caught sight of Steve...

He was dressed nothing like the young Alpha Captain that Bucky had come in search of. Instead of the protective skin of his stiff, elaborately embroidered captain’s coat, Steve had draped over his frame the loose-fitting shirt of the lower-classes. The laces were undone and open wide, exposing the pale skin of his throat which Bucky had not seen t since they were children, because the young Captain was much too proper for that. 

As though trying to draw his gaze to the spot where a mating bite should go, small strands of hair curled around his shoulders, having escaped from its customary ribbon. Forcing his eyes away from the tempting spot, Bucky allowed himself to take in the rest of Steve. 

Encasing long legs, a dark pair of trousers were tucked neatly into plain brown boots that stopped just below the knee, more practical working clothing instead of the ornate (and useless) over-the-knee polished boots that were part and parcel of his uniform. 

All in all, the young alpha looked nothing like the poised Captain Bucky knew. No, the man pacing in front of him looked human, more real and not just another gilded toy soldier of his Lord’s. 

This side of him was foreign to Bucky, wild and stressed, teetering on the edge of something just as Bucky was. Even through everything, Bucky couldn’t help but feel as though he had been granted more insight on Steve in these few moments than he had been given in years. A small glimpse to be sure, but one which he carefully guarded in his heart and for which he was thankful. 

“You should return to your rooms, Lord Barnes, lest our Lord get angry.”

Steve’s voice, low and perfectly court formal, startled him. He hadn’t realized that while he was taking in the sight of Steve, his pacing had turned him in Bucky’s direction. Despite his tone implying that they barely knew each other, he could see intense- if indecipherable- emotion in those blue eyes. Those were the eyes of his oldest friend and the man who had his heart. 

Bucky tilted his head to meet his gaze, his own eyes flashing. “I need to be free. I need the sky and the wind.” Longing was evident in each word, _I need someone to see me as a partner and not a prize._ “Come with me, Steve.” 

He was leaving whatever Steve’s answer. He had to take his own fate in his hands, despite the power Steve’s response held to break his heart. 

Freedom was calling him away from the commands of his Lord Guardian, who despite his many pleas, was still expecting Bucky to marry Viscount Brock Rumlow in less than a week’s time. 

How he hated the man, arrogant and cold with not a speck of kindness. It was that streak of cruelty and the causal possessive disregard of omegas - Bucky in particular - that had Bucky refusing to be a dutiful mate, trapped in a gilded cage of marriage. If he were to be mated, there was only one Alpha he would accept as his own. 

He had made his choice, and now it was time for Captain Steven Grant Rogers to make his. 

  
  


“Steve,”  Bucky’s voice was soft. He could tell that the alpha was angry, the sharp bitter scent strong as he turned his back on Bucky. It was a very controlled motion, one that most alphas wouldn’t have been able to manage, but most alphas didn’t have the years of training and discipline that this one did. 

But despite the calmness in his actions, Bucky could see how tense Steve’s shoulders were, and for a moment he pictured touching him; the omega instinct strong to soothe what Bucky considered  _ his _ alpha. Biting his bottom lip, he forced his hand back to his side.

This was something Steve needed to think over on his own, without the placating omega influence. The burden that Steve now carried was a result of Bucky’s choice, and it wasn’t something he could fix, not without taking it back. 

And he wouldn’t,  _ couldn’t.  _ He could not remain here a day longer; not with his unwanted nuptials looming ever closer and his would-be alpha taking more liberties by the day.

But he didn’t want to leave Steve either, as selfish as it made him. He loved the alpha. Loved the man that he had grown to be, though he had never told Steve his true feelings. 

Steve’s sense of honor and duty, his loyalty and ability to see the best in others were only some of the reasons that Bucky had fallen for him. They were also the traits that made the choice so difficult for Steve. 

Bucky had asked him to turn his back on his Lord and duty and to leave behind everything he knew. He had asked him to follow Bucky into the unknown. It was an impossible choice. 

Steve wouldn’t meet his eyes, turning his head only long enough for Bucky to see the shadows that had nothing to do with the darkness of the night lingering on his face. 

His scent shifted yet again into something acrid and bitter, nothing like the comforting scent of leather and steel that made Bucky want to bury his nose in Steve’s throat.

His whole demeanor was at once lost and defiant as he paced closer to the shore, putting more than physical space between them. 

Bucky bit back a soft omega whine at the perceived rejection, staying silent as he watched the consequences of his choices wage a war in Steve’s head.

Eyes, now the color of a storm, stared off over the water, not really seeing it. Steven loved him, that much Bucky knew, he could see it in the lingering glances Steve gave him when he thought he wasn’t looking.

His duty however, was to his Lord, and performing it meant taking Bucky back to the manor and alerting their Lord to his plans. If he did his duty, it would be a betrayal to Bucky, but Steve would stay in the place where he knew the answers, knew his place. If he chose to go, he would be facing the unknown at Bucky’s side. He would have to find what  _ he  _ believed in without being guided. 

When Steven dropped to the ground, hiding his head in his palms, Bucky truly understood the difficulty of choosing who he would follow.

Bucky wanted to go to him, to wrap his arms around him and bare his throat; to beg Steve to forgive him for placing this burden on him, but that was even more unfair.

Instead, he leaned against a willow, arms crossed upon his chest, watching the moonlight play on the water and letting his own mind wander.

It wasn’t just the restrictions placed on his gender that had him wanting to leave. There was a deep yearning that originated in his blood; a gift carried down through generations of free spirited men and women. 

How he had tried to suppress the need for adventure and freedom, to be the dutiful and demure omega that was expected of him as he grew. It mattered not how hard he had attempted to reign in that part of him, it was always there leaving its mark. A glint of wildness in his eyes, the propensity to skip his decorium lessons, dancing lessons, housekeeping lessons, in favor of spending time up a tree or on the practice field. As it stood, Bucky knew he could best any of his Lord’s alpha men with the rapier and the pistol, and hold his own against Steven with knives.

He wasn’t fanciful enough to believe that he could run away and survive without a plan. Ever since he'd overheard Rumlow bidding for his hand, he had been smuggling tiny portions of his dowry to the two people in this world he could trust. Disguised as small gifts in the near daily letters he sent to his childhood companions, he was sure that when he left he would have funds enough to live a comfortable if modest life wherever he chose to settle. 

Through Natasha, he had secured a position on the airship ironically named Deliverance, where his secondary gender didn’t matter so much as his skills with pistol and sword, and he couldn’t wait to leave

There was only one thing that could diminish the joy coursing through his veins: Steven’s decision.

It was there, by the lake, each consumed by their own thoughts and worries, that Dr. Erskine found them. He was an older man, a beta, who had taken in Steve when his ma had passed. 

Catching sight of the man had Bucky tensing. Had he come to take Bucky back to the manor and his Lord?

If he had, he was going to find it a much harder task than anticipated. For his sake, Bucky hoped Doctor Erskine had brought back-up because it was going to take more than he and Steven to force him to return.

If he had to kill to be free, so be it. 

Quickly, he pushed off the tree, forcing his muscles into a conscious state of relaxation even as his hand rested on the blade hanging at his hip. He kept cool eyes on the older man, ears alert for the sound of anyone attempting to sneak up on him. 

A gentle, knowing, smile directed his way was enough to stay Bucky’s hand. The scent of content, peaceful beta combined with a small shake of his head, told Bucky that Doctor Erskine was not going to fight him. 

In fact, there was a twinkle in those warm brown eyes that looked like, dare he say, support and understanding. 

Walking past Bucky, he asked the omega to stay back and to his own confusion Bucky found that he was willing to obey without protest.

Slowly, though not nearly as slowly as one would expect from the beta’s age, Doctor Erskine made his way down to the lakeshore. He lowered himself onto the damp sand next to Steve but didn’t say a thing.

For what felt like an eternity Bucky watched them sit silently. Steven, tall and brooding, radiating alpha tension, and Doctor Erskine, slighter and grey-haired with an air of deep calm offering silent support.

Whatever was passing between them was something that, even if he were given a thousand years, Bucky would never understand. It was the kind of parental bond that was foreign to Bucky. One that was unconditional, and not based off of what they were, but _who_ they were with the absolute freedom to be unguarded. 

He was yards away, a bit too far to hear what the Doctor was saying. But that was more than alright, he made his peace with not knowing, had no intention of eavesdropping on words that weren’t meant for him. It seemed though the universe had decided otherwise when the cool autumn breeze stilled in time for Doctor’s Erskine’s softly accented voice to carry over to him. 

“He’s leaving; I can see it in his eyes. He was never meant to be in this cage. He needs to be free to make his own choices and his own way, and you, Steven, need him. You will never be happy without him at your side, and it's going to rip you apart to see him Bonded to the Viscount.”

Bucky felt an uncharacteristic blush spread across his cheeks and heat the tips of his ears. He decidedly didn’t want to hear anymore. It was far too intimate. He rose to his feet, lightly brushing dirt and dry leaves from his pants, and moved farther into the trees, stopping only when he could still see them yet no longer hear them.

He had to admit to himself that he wanted to memorize the sight of his young captain, because in his deepest of hearts he was terrified that this would be the last sight of him. Come morning light, he might never see Steve again. 

By the lake, Doctor Erskine silently placed something in Steve’s hand, and it wasn’t until an equally silent Steve held it up to the moonlight that Bucky recognized it as a locket. A very particular locket. One that he had seen every day around Sarah’s neck before Bucky had presented and had been forbidden from going out into the lower town. 

Steve was staring at it like he could read the future written in the intricate scrollwork. Maybe he did find his path in the reflected moonlight, Bucky thought, watching the tightness in the alpha’s shoulders melt as though it had never been. 

The anger and helplessness vanished and Bucky knew in that instant that Steve was no longer lost. He had made a decision. Steve was always better when he knew his way, for better or worse. 

Bucky’s heart was both shattering and sinking when Steve rose to his feet with a look of resolve on his beloved face. 

Bucky had always known that Steve was an honorable and dutiful man, how could he be anything else when he had been raised by Sarah? He had hoped that Steve might feel enough for him, that he was willing to forge a new sense of honor. But why would Steve want  _ Bucky  _ as his omega, when he fought the confines of his presentation and station with everything that he was?

Bucky leaned against the tree, bracing himself for the rejection that was sure to come. He was determined that he would be leaving this place at any cost. He had come too far to let himself be turned around. Steven would have to use his alpha’s voice to order Bucky back to the manor, and the one thing that Bucky was sure of, even after all these years, was that Steve would never do that to anybody. 

He knew that it was going to end in a fight, but Bucky refused to look up or reach for his blade He would never be able to bring himself to harm Steve. But running for his freedom? That much he could do without shattering his heart irreparably. 

He flinched slightly when Steve’s outstretched hand came into his field of vision. It was only when the scent of Steve hit him that Bucky sagged back against the tree; his heart soaring with joy. 

The burnt, acrid scent of an alpha’s anger was long gone. Instead, he was enveloped in a heady mixture of leather and steel intertwined with the warmth and spice that was all Steve. But under that there was a scent that he had only scented when his mother and father were together. It was the scent of home and  _ love.  _

Lips parted in a gasp, Bucky dared lift his head and meet the blue eyes that he adored so much. He would never forget the affection and tenderness in them, as for the first time since their childhood, Steve met Bucky’s eyes unguarded. 

For a moment Bucky felt stunned, overwhelmed with the sheer intensity of the emotions in that gaze. 

More nervous than he had ever been, Bucky tilted his head back, exposing his scent gland where a mating bite would go. It wasn’t done, went against all tradition to show one’s throat to anyone other than one’s bonded alpha. And an omega was certainly not allowed to choose one's alpha. Yet the collar worn traditionally by all highborn omegas to protect their throat was left on his bed.

Bucky offered up his throat. It was a question-  _ will you have me? _ \- and a promise  _ -I am yours. I will always be yours. I trust you _ .

He couldn’t bring himself to look for a reaction, instead letting his eyes slip closed again, hiding. For what felt like a lifetime, but could have been the space of a few breaths, Bucky could hear nothing but the pounding of his own heart. 

Even knowing that Steve had chosen to go with him, Bucky couldn’t help but feel that he was perched on the edge of a cliff where only Steve had the power to either knock him off into the chasm or pull him to safety. 

He felt Steve move, closing the space between them, until Bucky could feel the heat of his skin on his own. Had it been anybody else so far into Bucky’s space, the omega would have shoved them back. But this was Steve, the man Bucky wanted as his alpha, as his mate, and it was just right to let his muscles go lax and pliant for him. 

He could only watch with wide eyes as strong hands cupped his face, tilting it up to meet Steve’s gaze. He was being held so gently, not as though he was fragile but as though Bucky were something precious.    
  
He had never thought that Steve would be rough, not when he was so careful of his strength in everything he did. But this? This tenderness? It stole Bucky’s breath, and at the same time left him feeling like he had never taken a proper breath. 

Whatever was showing on Bucky’s face must have been enough to reassure Steve, because his face softened. Ever so slowly, as though he could spook Bucky should he move suddenly, he slid his large hand, trembling in the most un-alpha way, around Bucky’s offered throat. 

Bucky swallowed just to feel the slight pressure and assure himself that he wasn’t dreaming. It wasn’t that far fetched an idea, not when one considered the amount of times that he had woken in his bed with that dream fresh in his mind. But no, there was no way Bucky could have imagined the kind of gentle possessiveness, or the utter delight of having Steve’s sword-calloused thumb rubbing tender circles over his scent gland, making the air around them smell like happy omega. 

Neither could he have imagined the soft brush of lips, slightly chapped and oh so perfect against his own when Steve closed the distance between them. Steve said nothing yet his actions said everything, and for once Bucky found that, there was no need for words. Not when they would have a life together.

Pulling away, only far enough to link their fingers and exchanged smiles of anticipation that spoke volumes:  _ Come morning we’ll be free. _ They turned into the night and into their future.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
